


Compass

by Sira



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 11:32:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6656197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sira/pseuds/Sira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl finds Carol at The Kingdom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compass

**Author's Note:**

> The story is set post season 6 and assumes that Daryl survived and that Carol was brought to the The Kingdom.
> 
> ***
> 
> I want to thank the wonderful 89kw for beta reading this story. I emailed her out of the blue, asking (begging, really) for help and she did wonders for this story. Thank you so, soooo much, dear. I claim all remaining mistakes.
> 
> ***
> 
> Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Compass points you home,  
Calling out from the east  
Compass points you anywhere  
Closer to me  
If we make it out alive from the depths of the sea  
Compass points you anywhere  
Closer to me

Zella Day – Compass

***

He doesn't know what to say. Looking at the woman he thought he knew almost as well as the back of his hand, he doesn’t see his friend, instead he finds a stranger looking back. Carol’s eyes are distant, not quite cold, just...empty. It scares him, cold tendrils of fear unfurling in his stomach.

He wonders what she sees as she's looking at him, wonders if she sees anything or if she’s broken beyond repair. The very thought makes his heart clench. Not Carol. Please, no.

He's never asked for much in his life, never had need for much, but he needs her. Since the world has gone to hell, she's been his anchor, his place to call home. He can deal with all the shit this new world throws at him for as long as he knows she’s there.

Does she even know she means the world to him? He likes to think she does, but he’s certainly never told her. He should have. Hindsight - it's always 20/20.

He wants to speak now, he opens his mouth, but no words pass his dry lips so he closes it again.

Only a few days have passed since he’s seen for the last time, but in the meantime the world has tilted on its axis once more and those who survived meeting Negan are even more broken than they've been before. Carol is more broken, too, even though she wasn’t with them that night. Thank god for that small mercy, at least. With her there, he would’ve crumbled, there’s no question about this in his heart.

It feels as if years have passed since this night.

When Morgan came back to the ASZ the night before, he told them about Carol being shot several times. He told them she had refused his help, had wanted to die, before she finally passed out, was then taken to a place called The Kingdom.

This time he didn’t hesitate, he left the ASZ almost as soon as Morgan finished telling them where to find said “Kingdom.”

Rick called after him but he paid him no mind. He has lost Carol one time too often; each time some thing or the other preventing him from going after her. Fuck, had he known she left the ASZ in the first place he'd have gone after her instead of Dwight. Things might look different now if he had.

He can't change the past but he can decide his future.

As so often in their past it’s Carol who breaches the heavy silence between them.

"You shouldn't have come," she says eventually, turning her back to him.

Like hell he shouldn't have, and if she thinks she can dismiss him that easily, she’s wrong.

"You don't belong here."

Not in this strange place where people look like some strange futuristic knights. Not in this place run by an eccentric man with a pet tiger.

To be fair, people, although cautious, were friendly enough when he arrived here, asking for Carol. But this is not her home. This is not her family.

She shakes her head at him but doesn't turn around again.

The room they have given her is bare apart from a bed, a nightstand, and a closet. There’s nothing in it reflecting the person she used to be. He wants that Carol of before back so badly he can taste it.

“This is not your home.”

"I can't go back to Alexandria. Just... leave."

His shackles rise. She’s never bluntly asked him to leave before. Well, too bad for her that he won’t. She isn’t dead, even if she might wish she was.

"Fancy askin' how we're all doin'? Ya know, I was shot. Folks that came after me got caught… I did, too.Rick, the others, too. Maggie’s been sick, stomach cramps. We all got to know Negan. He lined us up, gave a nifty speech before he killed one of our own with a barb-wired baseball bat."

It's a low blow, he knows, but if he’s sure of nothing else, he’s sureshe still cares for the people she used to call family. Maybe that she always cared too much was what drove her away in the end.

She winces now, turns, her eyes looking haunted.

"Who? How did you escape? Is Negan dead?"

Always asking questions, always assessing a situation, that’s the Carol he knows. Good. So there’s still a spark. Now he only needs to ignite the fire. Only that it can’t burn too bright. He can’t have Carol burn to ashes. He remembers when she told him she’s got nine lives, but he’s not sure how many of them are left. She might have risen like a phoenix from the ashes once – after Sophia’s death – but she wouldn’t again.

"He's not. Wants to keep us under control, like folks at Hilltop. And if ya wanna know who... you gotta come back and look for yourself."

Anger replaces the emptiness in her eyes, and he lets it wash over him. It warms something inside of him that has been cold since the moment Negan’s killed one of their family, at the same time killing another part of the humanity of all those present.

"Just tell me who? You can't come here making fancy speeches of your own and not tell me."

If she's angry, she's alive, right? He can deal with anger, wants more of it.

"Why did you leave anyway?”

He knows about the letter, has read it but she doesn’t know he’s seen it.

“This shit about Tobin? He's that bad in the sack you rather leave than bruise his ego?"

Carol's eyes widen and he can see so many emotions in them, one chasing the other so fast he can't keep up. Still, he doesn't look away this time, keeps his head up, his eyes locked with hers.

Learning about Tobin had been a blow, but coward that he was, he had done... nothing. That night… he had been there, in the distance, had seen them kissing. He still remembers how badly he wanted to punch that guy in the face, how badly he wanted it to be him to kiss Carol.

He should have talked to her then. Should have talked to her before that kiss. Yeah, right.  
Fuck, if he wants to throw himself a pity party, it has to wait. He needs Carol back, needs her to see that she belongs with them, with him.

He’s learned a lesson recently. If you don't go for what you want, what you need, there'll just be another night like the one with Negan and your time might be up. This is no longer a world for second chances.

He suddenly feels like crying, like burying his head in her shoulder, letting her comfort him.

To see that bastard club one of their own to death, to hear the screams... He takes a ragged breath. There have been more than enough times Carol's been strong for him, for all of them. It's about fucking time for him to be strong for her.

"Leave Tobin out of this. It's got nothing to do with him. I just can't do it any longer. I don't want to kill any longer. And I don't want anyone else to die because I might hesitate in the wrong moment."

Fuck. She must think he's a giant asshole, well, maybe he is. But he loves her, and he'll damn well make sure she knows before she decides to kick his sorry ass to the curb.

He shrugs. "Then I'll kill for ya."

He would, any time. But… he knows he can’t be around her 24/7. He might not want her to have to kill, but they both know that sometimes it's the only way to survive in this world.

It’s not been that long she acknowledged this simple truth. At some point he needs to talk to Morgan again. Somehow this man has gotten under Carol's skin and she’s not for the better for it.

She shakes her head once again.

"I don't want you to kill for me. I don't want anyone to kill for me."

She makes a step into his direction, bridging some of the physical distance between them. For him it's not enough. It's the emotional distance that hurts, anyway.

"Who died?"

That he hasn’t told her yet... It isn’t just that he’s riling her up. He's just loath to talk about it. Even wounded as he was that night, every moment has etched itself into his memory. He can still see the bat, wrapped in barbedwire in front of his face. He still remembers wondering if that would be it; in that moment he knew his biggest regret was not having told Carol he loves her.

And the moment this bloody motherfucker... He doesn't want to go back there, not even in his memories. He doesn't want to burden Carol with this awful knowledge, although he knows he can't shield her forever.

He remains silent and Carol's eyes flash while she moves even closer.

“I never knew you to be a coward, Daryl.”

Fire and ice. She’s both right now and no matter what, her words sting. They slice right through him, and his control snaps.

He makes one last step so they are face to face, even though she has to look up to keep his gaze. She looks uncomfortable but she doesn’t even flinch. She never has.

“I am,” he says, making her blink in confusion.

“A coward. Always was. But damn it, woman. I…”

It’s his chance, most probably his last, to tell her what she means to him, but he remains silent. Again. The words are there, but there are too many of them, all jumbled together, a mess he can’t untangle while simultaneously looking at her, his whole body calling out for her touch.

Maybe he can’t tell her but he can show her.

Without giving himself time to panic, to overthink, he leans down, slants his mouth over hers. It’s awkward, the angle kinda wrong but his whole body starts to tingle. It’s a shock to his system.

He groans, is instantly addicted to the feel of her lips against his. Pulling away slightly, he’s wondering if she’s going to slap him, push him away, but she doesn’t. He searches her eyes and something is there… underneath it all. He might be wrong but he thinks he sees longing. For a connection? A touch? His touch? He isn’t quite sure, but damn it, he’s done questioning. It’s never gotten him anywhere, has it?

He kisses her again, this time keeping the contact, caressing her lips with his. For what seems the longest moment, she’s unnaturally still, and he begins to panic, wants to withdraw when she finally reacts to his touch.

She makes a baby step towards him, bringing their bodies flush together, her hands reaching up to grip his hair, her lips parting underneath his. It’s all the invitation he needs, his tongue sliding inside her warm mouth, stroking her tongue with his. He wraps his arms around her body, stroking up and down her slender, too thin back.

Sparks of pleasure shoot right to his groin, his cock hardening inside the confines of his pants. He hasn’t been this close to a woman in years, has never wanted a woman as much as he wants Carol right now. The few fucks he’s had in his life… they were all about release, but this is Carol, and she’s everything.

From one second to the next a stab of ice cold fear curses all through his body. What if she feels the hard-on and it scares her? It’s more than likely she’s done the deed with Tobin, but that doesn’t mean she’s ready for any of this. She was married to a first-class asshole for over a decade, was abused over and over. They both wear the scars of emotional and physical abuse inside and out.

He thinks Tobin was her attempt to escape circumstances if only for a while, and it must not have worked or she wouldn’t have left in the middle of the night. She never loved Tobin, but she might love him, and if she does she’ll feel tenfold every good and bad thing this does to her.

He doesn’t want to be the reason the chasms inside her soul deepen, the reason she’s sinking deeper into the abyss of a depression he doesn’t know how to cure.

He pulls away but she’s having none of it. Her hold on his hair tightens.

“Don’t you dare.”

She doesn’t want him to stop. He’s relieved. The last thing he wants is to let go of her. From the fiery look in her eyes it’s also clear she needs him as much as he needs her. It’s about time people realize Carol’s got needs to. He doesn’t know if he can satisfy any of them but he can try at least.

He’s dreamed about kissing her often, how it would be sweet and perfect. This is neither sweet nor perfect but why would it be? They aren’t either.

“Don’t wanna hurt ya,” he mumbles against her lips.

“You won’t. I just…”

“Yeah?”

She shakes her head but he’s having none of it.

“What is it, woman?”

She sighs.

“I don’t want to think any longer. For just a little while I don’t want to think.”

He understands her so well. He doesn’t want to think either. Keeping their gaze locked, his hands go lower on her back until he grasps her ass. She sighs again but this time the tiny sound doesn’t convey a note of desperation but something much more primal.

Getting on her toes, she finds his mouth with hers. Her kiss is ferocious, hungry and desperate and his eyes are falling closed. All he can focus on is the taste of her, the slide of her tongue against his, the way his whole body is alive with sensation, enjoying it and craving more.

He’s surprised when he’s tasting salt, and it takes him a moment to realize she’s crying. His heart breaks for her, though he’s glad she’s able to let go. It seems like ages have passed since she told him to let himself feel it. Now it’s more than time for her turn to feel it, and he hopes it will give her at least some amount of relief.

She withdraws slowly and they’re both panting, needing air. He still has his hands on her ass, kneading the flesh through the fabric of her pants while she has hers in his hair. Their foreheads are leaning against each other while uncounted seconds tick away.

It’s the best moment he’s had in years. They have let life and misery tear them apart. Not any longer. Not if he has any say in this. In a moment of clarity he realizes that they can’t linger like this too long. This might be Carol’s room for now but someone could barge in at any second. Maybe they shouldn’t do this anyway. She’s hurt and…

He groans as her hand reaches down, strokes along the length of his jeans-clad cock. Something short-circuits in his brain while lust clouds his mind, doubts shattering into smithereens under her touch.

Melding their mouths once more, not being able to stand the separation, one of his hands find the hem of her lose shirt, slides underneath it. He’s careful, oh so careful, not wanting her to cause her pain. Trailing his way up, his cock twitches when he finds she’s not wearing a bra.

For a moment he just cups her small breast, loving how it feels underneath the palm of his hand. It’s not enough; they both need more so he lets a curious thumb trail over her nipple, the soft nub hardening instantly. She moans out, and damn if it’s not the sexiest sound he’s heard in forever.

He circles the now hard flesh for a few times before gently tweaking it between his thumb and forefinger. It makes her whimper, arch into his touch. What he wouldn’t give for the time to be able to find out which touches will cause her to make which sounds. If there’s a god, any deity, maybe it will deem they have suffered enough and it will grant them a respite, give them the chance to truly explore each other, to find heaven in each other when all around them there is only hell.

Again she’s quicker than he is, reaching for the buckle of his belt. With Carol it will never do not to keep up. Not willing to let go of her breast, wishing he could kiss, suckle and nip the soft skin, he uses his free hand to fumble his way into her pants, her panties.

He groans, breaking the kiss when he finds her wet. For him. He opens his eyes, finds her looking at him in return. Letting his index finger trail the length of her slit, he catalogues her reactions, smiles at the faint blush that tints her cheeks now.

His finger reaches her entrance and he stops just for a moment before sliding it in up to the first knuckle. Her walls instantly clench around it, but it’s pleasure, not pain he sees on her face, her eyelids fluttering as if fighting to stay open.

Pushing the whole finger in, he retreats almost at once, the slippery tip of his digit finding her clit, brushing over it, circling it. She bites down her bottom lip, her back arching.

A strange sense of pride fills him as he realizes this is good for her. He’s doing something right for once.

She takes a shuddering breath, an almost smile on her lip as she whispers.

“We gotta hurry.”

He knows and maybe it’s a good thing, he doubts he’ll last long anyway. It’s been too long since he’s fucked, too long even since he’s taken matters into his own hands. And fuck, this is not a piece of tail. It’s Carol, the only woman who’s ever had his heart.

He considers dropping on his knees, to drag her pants and panties down to her feet so he can spread her open and taste her. He can’t. Not now. Not fucking now. He withdraws his finger but damn it if he won’t have a quick taste at least. Slipping the digit inside his mouth, he lets her rich taste wash over him and he sucks it clean. To him she tastes fucking amazing.

She blushes even though her pupils dilate. He’s turning her on. Good.

But she’s busy too, she’s managed to free his cock from the fabric restraining it without him really noticing. His pants are suddenly pooling around his feet but he doesn’t care. He only cares for the way she looks down, licks her lip before her eyes look up at him again.

He wonders what she’s thinking, if she fears he’ll be too much or not enough. He knows there’s no time for any of these thoughts, so he shoves them away.

Careful so he won’t trip over his own feet, he walks them backwards, his hand on her back guiding her until they reach the next wall. He eases her against it as careful as possible, sees the thankful flicker in her eyes.

He reaches for her pants but she shakes her head, makes a quick job of getting out of them herself. Only when she steps out of them, wincing because of her injuries, he realizes she’s barefoot.

It’s a sight tugging at his heart. He mostly knows her in boots, always ready to run. It’s rather obvious here and now that Carol is done running, has given up on her former life. No… just no. He’ll take her with him even if he’s got to throw her over his shoulder and carry her back home.

Or… if she wants to stay here, he’ll stay. He cares about their family, has grown fond of some of the people he got to know in the ASZ, but if being with Carol means staying here, so he will.

Raising his gaze slowly, he takes in the sight of Carol’s legs, almost sighs when he realizes that Carol’s shirt covers everything from mid-thigh up. He wants to see her, all of her. He vows that next time he will.

She almost smiles when his gaze finally locks with her and he wonders if all of his thoughts are transparent to her. She reaches for his cock again, her cool hand stripping him of any coherency he might have had. It would be so easy to close his eyes and enjoy it for what it was.

Only that he wants more, so he stills her hand once again.

“Wanna be inside you.”

Lifting her slowly, his body protests the action, the crude stitches of his gunshot wound pulling tight. He shouldn’t be doing this and by the looks of it, neither should she. She’s biting down her bottom lip, frowning , her own wounds bothering her. Still, she wraps her legs around his waist, holding him tight.

“We can stop,” he offers, even while she’s reaching for his cock, aligning it with her entrance. Feeling her moist heat, it’s emotional and physical torture not to sink into her at once.

“No.”

Her eyes tear up, and it instantly scares him.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter. I… I just really need you.”

Carol’s been strong for so long and he can’t recall ever hearing her say she needed something, someone. She needs him, and his heart feels like bursting from the onslaught of emotions.

“Need ya, too.”

Finding her lips for a soft kiss, he pushes his hips up as slowly as he can, the head of his cock breaching her body. He stops at once.

She’s tight, so fucking tight, and he knows this has to be at least partially painful for her but when he looks at her, there’s a true smile on her face even though she’s still crying. She’s so beautiful it hurts.

“Just a minute,” she whispers, cradling his face with her hands, her tongue licking along his bottom lip, slipping inside his mouth as he parts his lips for hers.

He feels the need to move, the carnal, animalistic need to take her, mak her his and find the release he didn’t know he was missing, but he holds back. Finally, after maybe a few seconds or a few minutes, he doesn’t know, the grip of her walls on his cock eases slightly, allowing him to sink in deeper.

She moans out, pushes against him and soon he’s completely inside her, Carol’s inner walls massaging his hard flesh. He groans out at the exquisite sensation that sends sparks of pleasure down his spine. He breaks their kiss. He needs to breathe but isn’t able to stand the separation, so he sinks his teeth into the flesh of her neck, lightly pulling at the taut skin. Her moan is louder this time, and he grins, he laves the abused skin with his tongue before starting to suckle it a bit more gently.

He wants to caress her breasts again, to touch her at the apex of her thighs, knowing it would bring her extra pleasure but it takes all of his strength to keep them upright, to pull away and to sink into her once more.

From the sounds of it she doesn’t seem to mind. She moans when he sinks all the way into her, whimpers when he pulls away; a song he knows he’ll never tire of hearing.

In the end, she feels too good, though. She’s so fucking, god-damn tight; she clenches around his cock again and again, each time compounding his pleasure. His balls draw tight, and he knows he’s about to come.

“Fuck. No. I’m…”

“It’s okay,” she moans between whimpers, and he’s not sure if he’s imagining it but it feels like she’s clenching around his erection even harder.

His last few thrusts are jerky, uncoordinated, his climax knocks the breath right out of his body as he tenses, releasing himself into her body in spurts, wave after wave of pleasure taking him under. For a few precious moments there’s no room for thoughts, for worries or anything, really. There’s only pleasure and Carol.

Nothing lasts forever, and it all comes back to him with a start, where he is, who he’s with. Carol’s still smiling, but he’s sure she hasn’t come and damn his bloody heart, he never even thought about protection.

“Fuck. I’m sorry.”

His brother always told him he was an idiot, a jerk. Seems he was right all along.

“What for?”

She caresses his face with her slender fingers, tracing over the stubble on his cheeks, and it’s her tenderness in this very moment that makes him want to weep. Doesn’t she see that she deserves better? That she shouldn’t only have to give but to take as well.

 

Slowly he pulls out of her, not wanting to separate from her, to lose that feeling of closeness but knowing that he has to let go. His legs feel shaky but he ignores them, making sure Carol’s standing secure before letting go of her to pull up his boxers and pants.

He doesn’t’ know what she’s thinking, what she’s expecting now but her eyes widen when he sinks on his knees in front of her, pressing the palms of his hands on the inside of her thighs applying soft pressure, urging her to spread them wider.

“Daryl, no, you don’t…”

He only grunts, not wasting any time with a reply. He’s just doing what he wanted to do all along. Spreading her open with his thumbs, he slides his tongue inside her body, tasting the mixture of his come and her arousal. It’s intoxicating and he just fucks her with his tongue for a minute, drinking in their essence. She begins to writhe against his face, and he reaches up to still her with his hands on her hips.

She’ll need more, he knows, so he trails a way up to her clit, circling it a few times with his tongue before gently flicking it. He’s got to be doing something right as her whimpers turns into loud moans, her hands tangling in his hair, holding him close. Freeing one hand to slide two fingers inside of her, he fucks her hard while she uses the new freedom to undulate against him.

It’s all around messy and so fucking perfect and when he flicks her clit hard a few times, speeding up the thrusts of his fingers even more, she convulses, more wetness coating his fingers. He stops tonguing her clit, withdraws his fingers, so he can lick up everything she has to offer, and only when she completely still, he stops.

He looks up at her then. For the first time in months her body’s not deadly pale but flushed, there’s a slight sheen of sweat on her skin and her eyes are half-closed. She looks relaxed and he feels proud for being the one to give her this moment of peace.

Her eyes meet his and right behind the satisfaction of the moment, he sees questions lurking.

They have to talk, really talk, he knows. They will.

No matter what, though, he’s with her now, and he won’t let her go.


End file.
